8/25/2004 10:10:01 AM|||Amy|||Big, heavy deadlines to meet today, but oh well - I want to tell you about my dream last night.

When my grandparents were alive, they owned a house in the not very pretty Texas countryside. My brother, sister and I were often sent there in the summers while my parents took some form of a vacation. It was hot, boring and my grandparents were a little bit strict. Those summers at the farm only seem ideal now because memory posseses a good editing mechanism - and what I hated then, I can appreciate now.

Whenever I have dreams that really get to me at some level, they almost always are set in my grandparent's house. I don't know why. I have theories, of course - but it seems to me that if my sub-conscious really wants me to sit up and take notice of a dream then it will include my memories of that house.

So, in this dream I had been given the responsibility of taking care of a group of birds. There weren't very many of them - maybe no more than ten - but the birds were a mix of hawks and vultures. I had to feed them, but in order to feed them - I had to get things like raw bacon and other raw meats and sort of hand the bits and pieces to the birds. I would retrieve the birds' food from the kitchen and deliver it to them in a room on the opposite end of the house. The birds, not seeing me as a caregiver but more as someone who just had what they wanted, would nip and bite me in their enthusiasm to get to the food. It was painful, but I felt a strong sense of duty to continue. Every once in a while I would run (I had to run fast) and lock myself in the bathroom to rest and clean up the big, gaping, bleeding wounds on my shoulders and arms where the birds would attack me to get the food. The birds would follow me to the bathroom and throw themselves at the door to get in and presumably, get me.

Now, what do you think that means?
|||109344828190951344|||Hawks and Vultures